


Puppeteer

by Pluviona



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Alcohol, Canon Divergence, Drama, Earth, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Interspecies Relationship(s), Magic, Manipulation, Mewni, Minor Violence, Moral Dilemmas, Not a real lizard, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Resolved Sexual Tension, Scheming, Sexual Tension, Unplanned Pregnancy, You get to fuck a lizard, dark themes, wand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29972154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pluviona/pseuds/Pluviona
Summary: Everything comes with a price, even the most delightful and innocent of dreams.Perhaps she was too quick, too eager to accept that inciting offer. But who could blame her for giving into a once in a life-time opportunity? Especially when the magic was whispering wonderful things into her mind, (Y/n)'s long awaited magical adventure is finally about to unfold.
Relationships: Toffee (Star vs. The Forces of Evil)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Puppeteer

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I want to begin by thanking you for taking the time to click on this story. There is hardly any Toffee/Reader fanfictions out there and I figured it was time to add some more! As a heads up, there will be heavy spoilers for Seasons 1-3 as well as a canon divergence and warped timeline.
> 
> Still, thank you again for giving this story a shot and I hope you enjoy! Comments and constructive criticism is welcomed!
> 
> Also, forgive me for giving into the "waking up late" trope.

Everything comes with a price.

Whether or not this cost makes a small dent in your life or if it leaves you stripped bare is up to the exchange in itself. For the most part, many would thoroughly debate and weigh their options before taking that leap, however in cases of desperation and emotion, one might find themselves preparing to put everything on the table.

Because at the end of the day, how much is one willing to sacrifice for what they want?

Where does the line end?

Apparently not when steaming bile is pouring into a stained toilet bowl and the paper dispenser is the only sturdy thing to use as a support.

" _Oh,_ " she hacked " _fuck_ " as a long string of saliva dribbled from her lips, she continued to hover over the bowl with her mouth draped open. Forcing herself to gag, she rested her arm heavily against the silver dispenser to keep herself from swaying. One grunt... Nothing. Two, she squeezed her stomach and still, nothing came broiling up. Three, her tongue curled and for a moment she could have sworn that familiar warmth was resurfacing with a slow crawl but it lodged inside her throat and refused to spill.

When nothing came from her attempts, she broke away from the toilet and leaned against the cool stall instead, her eyes traced the wavering outlines of small doodles, the ink pulsed with life the and smeared phone numbers seemed to be merging. She allowed her head to thunk against the metal to keep her mind still for just a second.

Ordering her fifth fruity concoction with an extra shot was her first mistake.

Her second was wearing that shiny, silk dress. It was hidden deep in her closet, begging to see the light of the moon. However, now the fabric became a victim to her sudden sickness with a large puddle staining the once pearly hue into a muddled mess. It clung onto her skin, though not in the snug way that emphasized the smooth curve of her waist, but more like an adhesive that refused to let go.

The slime of it made her lap slick— again, not in a way she'd want.

"Gross" she grumbled and began unrolling multiple squares of toilet paper from the dispenser, she didn't stop until it was enough to form a tightwad in the palm of her hands. It was more than needed, but in her defense, the paper was thinner than a sheet of paper and it scratched against her skin as she dabbed away her mess.

"Sorry, dress" the fabric remained damp and if not washed soon, forever stained with murky bile but at the very least it was free from chunks and slime. Her attention was brought back into the toilet seat, and though her skin shivered at the thought of touching the surface, she took the soiled paper and wiped away the remains that were unfortunate enough to miss the bowl.

"Sorry, people..." she'd clean it properly if she could, regardless it was dry and she was sure other people shared the same experience in this stall anyway. She tossed the soaked wad into the bowl. It shouldn't clog, right?

Her final mistake of the night was wearing heels. Sure at the time when she was posing in her bedroom mirror, the heels brought the entire look together to create an elegant glow as she strutted about.

Now, it was just a death trap as her knees wobbled to hoist herself back onto her feet. With a small stumble came a soft gasp, luckily she was able to save herself further embarrassment and cling onto the stall with a stagger to her step.

_She reaaally didn't want to touch the toilet handle._

_"Fuck it, at least no one will see if I fall"_ it was the better alternative.

Holding onto the stall, she raised her foot and brought it down just enough to push the silver leaver that triggered the large whirlpool inside the bowl. Just like that, evidence of her sudden sickness was gone... Nearly, at the very least.

Unlatching the door, her heels clacked against the dark tiles as (Y/n) made her way to embrace the sink. Nearly collapsing, she put her entire weight onto the marbled ledge and embraced the white outer rim of the sink.

As her head bobbed, she let out another low groan.

Beyond the stained splotches and runny marks, the mirror reflected back to her a pair of familiar eyes— her eyes, droopy and layered in a shining coat of a lilac pigment. (Y/n) leaned forward, using the pads of her fingers to adjust the long, curled false lashes back into place as the corners were peeling off. If she hadn't left the glue back at her apartment she would be fixing up her appearance right now, then again, perhaps it was for the best. Underneath the harsh light, the surface of her skin had already built an intense layer of slick oil and the calm tint on her lips was fading away to reveal her stained skin.

 _"At least I have the lipstick"_ though she remembered it to be stashed in one of the hidden pockets inside her bag.

Where _was_ her bag?

At the table, right?

Despite gravity itself breaking and putting the world through a loop, (Y/n) managed to hold onto the faucets and run her hands underneath the cool water, she hummed at the thought of placing some on her cheeks to cool them down but quickly decided against it. Once she was finished, she reached for the roll of paper towels but much to her distaste the roll was empty.

With nothing that could be done, she went off on a mission to find the table her friends had so proudly claimed. (Y/n) leaned against the wall for support, often stopping to stagger or regain her balance. Leaving the bathroom was the easiest part, grabbing onto occupied chairs and sticky tables genuinely gave her motor skills a run for her money. She occasionally slurred apology when people had side glanced at her.

Everything looked the same with its swarm of people grinding and lingering about, low lights dimming her path and a mixture of music that nearly made her want to join the crowd.

Nearly.

On top of one of the booth stalls was a prickly cactus, its spine was curved yet the spikes protruded outwards in a stiff manner. Though it took a few seconds for the hazy memory to resurface, she remembered pointing out the potted plant to mention how badly she wanted one, she had a perfect view from... Around the corner.

Dragging her hands across the wall, she made a sharp turn. After spotting a familiar face inside one of the booths, (Y/n) made her way over and slid into the empty seat with much relief "I'm back."

"I was about to go looking for you! What happened?" her smile was wide which revealed her particularly large teeth. Though the way her lips curved, in photos especially, was so natural and warm.

"Hmmm, I ruined my dress but it's okay! It's okay! I think I can wash it."

"Oh hey, that's good" in her hands was an opened pamphlet, she took a few moments to glance at the menu, most glasses were filled with vibrant colors and salted rims. Underneath the images were ingredients to each beverage, often described with fancy wording to create the illusion of appeal and class— but the words didn't make sense, no matter how many times she read it over "I thiinnnk I'mma get another margarita, want one?"

Bile lingered on her tongue; her stomach nearly churned at the thought of making another trip to the restroom "no I'm good, Maddie"

"C'mon, we're celebrating your new job!"

_Work. She had to be in tomorrow morning._

(Y/n) shook her head this time "no, I think I'm okay. I don't have any uhm.. money left anyway"

_Money. Wallet. Her bag!_

(Y/n) looked to her sides, nothing but the brown leather seats... She then brought her attention to the table where empty glasses of shots and fruity drinks are pilled onto each other. At some point, Maddie even ordered a plate of fries with a sandwich and split the meal with her and that too was still next to the clutter, it was rather expensive for rubbery and hallow fries. But no bag in sight.

"Do you have my bag?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah!" reaching next to her side, Maddie pulled out the slim clutch bag— smooth and dark with a silver clasp, it really was the only thing that paired with the dress "I was watching it for you!"

(Y/n) leaned over, nearly too far as the dishes clattered when her body pressed against the ledge. She fell back into her seat, muttering a small thank you as she opened the latch.

Seeing her shiny tube of lipstick was relieving— but her phone was more delightful.

Maddison kept to her promise and ordered another margarita. From then on, time began blurring together, at some point she had managed to pick herself up from the booth and join her friend out into the crowd as if the shame from the bathroom incident had been pinned and forgotten in the back of her mind. One second they were twirling each other with a giddy laugh and in the next (Y/n) found herself holding back the autumn curls of Maddison's hair as she hurled her stomach into a bush.

Even at night, the warmth of the sun was a comfort to her skin as they sat on the curb. They were swinging their feet, babbling on about old stories they have told nearly a thousand times before, like how they pretended to be their Dungeons and Dragons characters during homecoming in Middle School, cheap "metal" armor and itchy cloth always had them reminiscing. They were waiting while telling these stories, but for who?

The second (Y/n) had her back against the soft fabric of a seat, her vision swirled and her body eagerly welcomed the cushion. Had it not been for the streetlights passing over her head, then she would have thought she was on her couch. Maddison had fallen onto her side and curled up against her feet which broke any illusion of being at home.

Eventually the streetlights slowed, whizzing past only a few moments before coming to a complete stop.

_How did she get back to her apartment?_

Who knows, but she was jamming her keys inside the lock, jiggling it from one side to the next until she was able to push it open.

She tripped on her rug, yet the dull smack against her skin never came— at least there was never any pain, just the rough bristles brushing on her flushed cheeks. Squinting, she could barely make out the soft floral patterns on her rug, but whether or not this was because she forgot to switch on the lights or the heaviness in her eyes, she wouldn't know, it was all the same.

The only reason she was aware of her little fall was because it was exactly where she woke up the next morning. On the floor of her apartment.

A muffled jingle stirred her awake, albeit very slowly, prying her lids open until her eyes were able to recognize the short legs of her coffee table.

Her body shivered; the floor obviously lacked the comfort of her bed, no fleece blanket or tender pillows to pamper her neck with, yet her limbs went slack and even dared to become weights at the thought of moving.

Pressing her chapped lips together, she swallowed a thick wad of saliva, a sticky and bitter taste burned at the back of her throat. Nothing sounded better than chugging a glass of water, or maybe something fizzy and cold.

The jingle continued, a looping pitter-patter of sharp metal keys.

With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) reached over for her purse and fiddled with the metal clasp until it clicked open. Her fingers rummaged across crinkled recipes and glossed over a few stray bills before she could hold her buzzing phone up to her narrowed eyes.

6:30 AM

Her alarm was going off— the good news is it was one of many that managed to wake her up, bad news was that it was her last one... If she didn't get up now, she would be late to work. On her first day, no less.

"Crap crap crap crap," hoisting herself to her feet, (Y/n) reached over her shoulder to fidget with the delicate zipper of her dress as she made her way towards her bedroom. She would have ran if it wasn't for her heels.

With the zipper undone, the thin straps hanging from her shoulders slipped off and the stained dress puddled at the bottom of her feet. Her nose crinkled at the sight of it— sure, it was nothing more than a crusty mess but the sour odor finally hit her nose; that same bitter taste swirled in her mouth.

A shower right now was out of the question. She wasn't willing to take a gamble with traffic today. Though it made her skin crawl, she hoped the stench wouldn't follow her.

To say her feet nearly cried with relief when her heels have been kicked off was an understatement, they practically wailed. Sharp pulses curving alongside her soles made her inhale sharply through her teeth.

"Definitely going comfortable today" she grumbled.

Slipping off her used underwear and adding them onto her growing pile of dirty clothes, she selected a fresh pair to put on. (Y/n) buttoned up her beige blouse and tucked them into a pair of elastic slacks, then opted to dig out a pair of flats from her closet because truly anything else would be self-sabotage.

Making a break for the bathroom across the hall, she wasted no time turning on the faucet. Despite how cold the water ran, (Y/n) made quick work to wash the smeared cosmetics from her face. At this rate, she could only hope she wouldn't break out. After brushing her teeth and a quick fix of her hair, a framed shining mirror tempted a glance from her.

Presentable enough.

Not the first impression she wanted to give, but really she had no one to blame but herself in this situation.

From her pocket (Y/n) pulled out her phone, taking a deep breath when it read 6:44 AM.

Skipping breakfast wouldn't be an issue today as a shiver shook her stomach at the thought of food. But, if the food was any good suppose waiting in line at the cafeteria wouldn't hurt... If she was feeling any better, that is.

With a rushed yet finished routine, (Y/n) made her way back into the living room to pick up the dark clutch bag. There wasn't much to sift through, loose change, old recipes, and off to the side was her credit cards, ID, and membership cards. Everything was there except for her keys.

She sighed, did she drop them?

She looked down at the ground, more specifically underneath the coffee table and even going so far as to lift the rug with her feet just to cover all the bases. There were no keys to be found. Suddenly the possibility of losing her only set during her night out became apparent, it was a possibility that she quickly went against.

"They've got to be here, I got in somehow" getting on her knees, she bent down to get a better angle.

_There they were, underneath the couch. Ha!_

Without a second thought, she reached into the narrow opening and hooked her finger around the metal hoop— they must have slid when she fell. In any case, a budding weight has been lifted from her chest. Keys in hand, (Y/n) sprinted out the door and latched it shut.

In hindsight, taking the stairs all three floors down wasn't the brightest idea but at the moment she figured it would have been faster than waiting for the elevator. Perhaps it was, with the way her hand gripped at the railings as she skipped a few steps.

Did it do her any favors with her feet? No, absolutely not. Each landing delivered a sharp pulse through the soft tissue and from it stemmed a familiar jelly-like soreness with her thighs.

Eventually, she pushed past the glass doors leading into the lobby. For the most part, the room was bare, except for a few who took advantage of the benches and singular sofa— she didn't recognize either of them so she was willing to bet they're waiting for someone else. This of course gave her the full liberty to continue sprinting towards the parking lot.

What happened between her and the road was best left unspoken. A few sharp turns here, a rough stop there, but in the end no one was hurt during the process. Green lines instead of white separated the staff parking spots from the students, to this day she still didn't understand the purpose or what difference it made.

Keycard in hand, she rushed her way towards the front door and pressed the ID up to the scanner. Along with a beep of confirmation came the loud click of the heavy doors.

Echo Creek Academy was a particularly decent-sized school, easy for anyone new to get lost so it was a good thing she memorized the route to her class during orientation. Not wanting to draw attention, (Y/n) slowed her sprint to a brisk walk through the hallways, it seemed like students were finishing up their conversations and a few teachers who have been leaning against the doorway warned them about the time. She gave the teachers a curt nod of acknowledgment, doing her best to control her lungs from huffing.

Room 105... 106... 107.. 108.. 109.. 110...

Crossing into the 200's hall, almost there.

201...202.. Room 203!

She sighed in relief and to her surprise the doors were already unlocked, another teacher must have let them in.

"Good morning, class!"

A few muffed responses, though most have the class remained silent. If she listened carefully, she could pick up some of the words being whispered throughout the classroom, it seemed like nothing ever really changed when students see a substitute teacher.

Tucked into the furthest corner at the front of the room was a large desk, mostly cleared of any personal décor but a pencil holder was there to welcome her as she walked over and set her belongings down. A clipboard waited for her, providing a list of names and grayed pictures— attendance and seating arrangements for all of her classes. Sitting on top of a large ringed binder was a short yet thick book with yellowed sheets, sticky notes poked out of the first few pages of the book.

Along the walls, she looked for a clock.

7:08 AM

She made it on time with two minutes to spare. She leaned against the desk, giving the few students who flooded into the room a smile and a soft "good morning."

At precisely 7:10 the bell rung, a terrible shrill compared to others that she has heard.

"Alrighty, let's get started with attendance today and then we'll get into everything" plucking a pen from the pencil holder and taking the clipboard in her hands, (Y/n) slowly went down the list and checked off the names once she was given a response. There was a moment where she was met with nothing but silence; she looked up in case the student opted to raise their hand instead. Nothing, she marked the student absent.

After going through a total of 16 students, (Y/n) set the clipboard down.

"It's really nice to meet all of you," from the marker board tray, she selected a random marker and began writing her name on the board with the black ink.

"My name is Miss. (L/n), for the rest of the year I'll be your substitute teacher."

Again, her words were met with silence to which she was sure she'd look back on and cringe later at home. But, this was rather typical behavior for students, at least in the morning. Some though exchanged glances and shrugs.

A young with dark hair tucked underneath a deep, murky-green cap spoke "this is because Mr. Norwick had to go on family leave, right?"

"Yes, I... How did you know that?"

She didn't answer, just smiled.

 _"Okay, that's a little weird but I'll ignore it. Probably learned it from gossip"_ (Y/n) was sure not to express that thought out loud.

(Y/n) cleared her throat "uhm, yes.. Mr. Norwick had a family emergency so he left very unexpectedly. I'll be here until they can find a new teacher at the end of the year" apparently it had something to do with continuing the education immediately rather than wait around for a potential employer.

"Are there any more questions I can answer?"

No response, only blank stares. It would take time to adjust.

"Well, if anything comes up don't be afraid to ask!" securing the cap, she walked back over to her desk and opened the particularly thick binder labeled as "Curriculum" with a soft hum, she flipped through the pages filled with notes and highlighted sections. She stopped when she found the date and skimmed.

"So it says here that you guys are reading "The Reaping Season" and..." she trailed softly, reading the remainder of the page "half of the class time should be spent reading pages 231 to 260 and the remaining should be used to fill out your packets."

There was a wave of soft groans as students shuffled through their backpacks.

"I'll tell you what, though. If you finish early and get on your phone, I won't say anything."

At best what she got was a small, hushed "yes" from a few students.

Fortunately for her, the remainder of the class was spent in silence with the occasional scribble on paper as they answered the questions corresponding with the text. Using that method, many students were able to breeze through the assignment and entertain themselves with their phones. And as promised, she didn't speak a word on it— until someone put their full volume on blast, but that was a different situation.

In the meantime, she spent the entire period resting her feet on top of the cushioned office chair and looking over the agenda for the next week. Obviously, she had to catch up along with the class in their book project as well, otherwise it wouldn't entirely be fair.

The following two classes continued on the same routine. (Y/n) greeted them and proceeded with rollcall, introduced herself, answered any questions, and then allowed them to do the reading on their own with the same deal. She found that her third class was more chatty than the other and had to remind them from time to time that others were reading and she'd appreciate it if they lowered their voices. So far, her first day was going smoothly.

At least until the passing period came along, a few students arrived early and filled in their seats. One more class before lunch break, it was already decided that the teachers' lounge would be scoured for coffee.

It started with a clash of metal, (Y/n) figured that a student must have crashed onto them.

A whirring pop echoed in the halls accompanied by a vibrant flash of pink, at first she thought it must have been a camera of some sort but (Y/n) wasn't aware of any cameras that did that. So what could that have been? Turning her head towards the agape door, she furrowed her brows.

"Ooops!" another light with a rosy hue "sorry, watch out!" shrieks is what made (Y/n) stand up from the spinning seat, briskly she walked over to the door and peered into the hallway.

"What's going—"

"Hey~ you're not Mr. Norwick!" a long-haired blonde floated past— no, not floated, more she was being pushed. However, this force was a solid beam of that same hue of rose.

"I'm... A sub," she answered with a breathy gasp as the young girl sped past.

"OOooh! This means we just do fun stuff today, right?!" she faced her with a large, cheeky smile. (Y/n) couldn't help but stare at her cheeks, soft pink hearts absorbed the empty space on her skin, it didn't shine or gloss like paint.

Her chest began rattling, thumping mercilessly as she watched the young girl blast back and forth down the halls. The blonde was holding her hands out in front of her, tight in her grasp was a slender wand with a round head, from how fast the girl was going (Y/n) couldn't quite make out the details but she noticed white blurs of what appeared to be wings and brilliant gold embellishments. It too was pink, she must really like the color, still she was projecting herself from one end of the hall to the other with a simple ray of light.

"Sure, sure" (Y/n) brought up a limp wrist, pointing at her "how are you doing that" she swallowed thickly, unable to keep her eyes away.

"With magic, duh~!"

_Magic..._

_Magic... Of course._

_After all those years, the words failed to register inside her mind._

_Magic._

_Magic is real._

**Author's Note:**

> I find it strange in the show how no one from Earth mentions the fact she has magic or is even stunned by it, let me know what you think! I hope to see you in the next chapter! This will also be crossposted on Quotev under (@.Pluviona)
> 
> And remember, drink responsibly folks.


End file.
